


Brownies

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Brownies, M/M, Peterick, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: There's something a little extra in the brownies a fan left in their dressing room.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 13





	Brownies

**Author's Note:**

> My entry into the infamous "Sex Pollen" trope. I really need a bingo card or something...

"Who are those from?" Patrick asked when he saw the plastic wrapped plate of brownies sitting on the dressing room counter.

"Fan brought them, I think," Joe said as he pulled on his t-shirt, covering his chest tattoos. "Passed them to one of the road crew. Said we deserved a treat."

Patrick's hand hovered over them; brownies were one of his weaknesses. "Do we know if they're safe?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Remember the last time brownies were left for us in Seattle? We were all high for three days straight." Patrick shook his head. "I was seeing double without my glasses and Pete flashed the space needle."

Joe rolled his eyes. "I checked. man. They're clean. Walnuts maybe, which will only hurt you if you're allergic."

Lifting a corner of the wrap, Patrick picked one up and bit into it. His mouth was immediately flooded with fudgey, nutty goodness. "Oh, God," he groaned, looking down at the plate. "They're delicious."

Joe's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And definitely home made." Finishing it off, he licked chocolate off his fingers. "Better than my grandmother's."

Just then, Pete looked over his shoulder. "What have you got there?" he asked as he snatched one off the plate and stuffed it into his mouth. "These are good," he said, a surprised note in his voice. 

"They are," Patrick agreed as he took another one. "Did whoever left them leave a name? We owe them an autograph at the very least."

Joe shook his head. "Just dropped the plate off. You can ask around, but they're probably long gone." He slung his guitar strap around his neck. "C'mon, guys. We gotta get out there. Andy's waiting."

"Joe's right." Pete wrapped up the rest of the brownies before grabbing his bass. "Let's go." The three men went onstage.

*****

By the time the band got to "My Songs", Patrick knew he was in trouble. He had the beginnings of a headache right between his eyes and his hands were so slick with sweat his was afraid of dropping his guitar. _I feel terrible,_ he thought as he belted out the chorus, grimacing a little. _Catering, maybe? The chicken salad was questionable..._

He glanced over at Pete, who had his hand on his stomach and looked vaguely sick as well. _Pete didn't eat from catering,_ Patrick remembered. _He never does ever since he got food poisoning in San Diego in 2007. Breakfast maybe? But we all ate at the hotel..._

Pete came over a moment later. "You okay?" he asked over the din of Andy's drum solo. "You look like you're gonna puke."

And now Patrick's stomach did feel queasy. "Yeah, I do," he said, giving his bassist a closer look. "And so do you. Are you coming down with something?"

"Don't think so." Suddenly Pete's face lit up. "The fucking brownies."

"Fuck," Patrick said, cursing as well. They were dosed. They had to be; that was the only explanation for them to both be feeling sick. "What do you want to do?"

"Wrap it up. We've been playing for almost two hours. It'll be okay." When Patrick nodded, Pete gave the signal to Joe to cut into "Saturday" He couldn't help sighing with relief when the guitarist nodded as well before starting his solo. _Almost over,_ he thought as he went back to his spot. _Almost over. It was a good show._

He was going to strangle whoever left them the brownies with his guitar strap if he ever caught up with them.

*****

Pete and Patrick barely made it back to their hotel room before both of them collapsed, falling onto the bed while clutching at their stomachs. "Jesus," Pete cursed. "What was in those damn things? I only had one."

"I don't know," Patrick confessed. "But I'm going to kill whoever gave them to us if I ever find them." He closed his eyes; the room was beginning to spin. "How do you feel?"

"Like total shit." Pete made a face. "Maybe we should go to the emergency room."

"Do you want to spend the rest of the night getting your stomach pumped? I don't." Patrick struggled to his feet and headed for the bathroom. "I think I have some Pepto in my bag. That might help."

"And I'll call down for some ginger ale." Pete picked up the phone.

Groaning, Patrick leaned against the closet wall, doubling over. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Patrick!" Pete came up and put an arm around his waist, leading him back to the bed. "I'm calling an ambulance."

Patrick put a hand on his arm to stop him. "No. Don't," he said as he looked up, his eyes bright. "I...I actually feel a little better." And he did; his aching belly had a fire burning in it now, low and seething. His fingers dug into tanned skin, with Patrick resisting the urge to lick at the tattoos decorating it. "Pete." 

"Tell me what's wrong," Pete begged as he clutched the singer close. "Tell me or I call an ambulance right the fuck now."

"I don't know, Patrick said shakily, heat flaming his face as desire rose to crawl under his skin. "I don't...Pete," He suddenly pulled the bassist into a tongue tangling kiss.

Groaning, Pete returned it with everything he had, pushing Patrick up against the wall as he clutched at his jacket. "Off," he said, pulling at his clothes. "Off...take your clothes off. Now."

"Yours, too," Patrick growled as he clawed at Pete's pants. "Take everything off. Want you so much." he pushed Pete back onto the bed, knocking the alarm clock off the table as he stripped off his shirt. "Need you right the fuck now."

"Yes." Pete's jacket and shirt joined Patrick's. "Yes, yes, yes...Patrick...my Patrick...let me...let me do stuff to you."

"Anything," Patrick promised as the rest of his clothes hit the floor. "Anything...as long as you get naked first."

"You got it." Pete quickly stripped. His socks landed on the dresser and his t-shirt ended up dangling from the nearby curtain rod. "And the minute you do you're gonna get nailed to the fucking wall."

Patrick eyed Pete's erect cock, licking his lips. "And that's the hammer I want to do it," he said as he reclined against the pillows and spread his legs. "Get over here and fuck me."

Grabbing the lube out of his bag, Pete laid back down next to him. "Please say you've done this before," he said as he slicked up his fingers and eased two into Patrick's ass.

Patrick sighed as he pushed against them, drawing them in deeper. "A couple times with Joe a million years ago back in the van," he said. "You?"

"Brendan when "Panic" was touring with us. He likes to top." Pete moved his hand back and forth. "Like that?"

"Fuck, yeah," Patrick breathed as he closed his eyes again. "Please...you don't have to do all that...just shove it in."

"I don't want to hurt you," Pete said as he took his fingers out and slicked up his cock. "God, Patrick...I'm so ready for you..."

"And I'm more than ready for you," Patrick said as he wrapped his legs around Pete's waist. "Do it. Stick it in." Both men groaned as Pete slowly sank all the way in.

When he was secure, Pete rested his forehead against Patrick's. "Love you," he breathed. "Love you so much, baby...I gotta move..."

"Move, Pete. Fuck me." Patrick moaned again as Pete began to thrust."Oh...that's it...God, that feels good..."

"So do you. So fucking good...tight and hot and made for me." Pete leaned down to give him a hard kiss. "So perfect...so amazing...Patrick...baby..."

"Pete...please...Pete..." Patrick moved his hips, meeting every one of Pete's thrusts with his own. He was so close..."Love you."

"Patrick...love you," Groaning, Pete shuddered hard as he came deep inside of him. He was still shaking when Patrick let out an incoherent yell and came minutes after him all over his belly.

Thy lay against each other after, calming one another with quiet words and caresses. Pete let out a heavy sigh as he lifted his head up. "Hey, baby," he murmured, kissing him yet again. "You're incredible."

Patrick stretched before sliding his arms around his neck. "So are you." He smiled as he surveyed the man in his arms. "So what happens now?"

"Well...when you're up for it, I was hoping you'd return the favor," Pete said with a grin. "As for the rest...one day at a time?"

Patrick grinned as well. "Sounds about perfect to me."


End file.
